


Shakespeare and Cigarettes

by TrashyAsh



Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, PVRIS (Band), Panic! at the Disco, Ryden - Fandom, The Academy Is...
Genre: Bisexuality, F/F, F/M, Gay, Gay Male Character, Joncer - Freeform, M/M, Panic At The Disco (Band), Ryden
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-10-20
Packaged: 2018-11-22 16:01:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11383578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrashyAsh/pseuds/TrashyAsh
Summary: “Tell me something, am i worth your time? Because if not; I’d like mine back.” I say coldly, shooting a glare at Ryan..





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this is one of my first attempts at fanfic so, comment some ideas as to how i can improve please!   
> not proof read so there may be typos, im sorry!

The glossy wooden floor below me shone with the reflection of the skylight that breached into the mostly red and black gym. I looked down at my feet, staring at the black vans with a few almost brown spots from where I had accidentally dropped bleach on them from trying to get dirt stains out, the laces were loosely looped into the plastic holes, the aglet at the end of the loose fabric worn down into a scrappy plastic look. I exhale and inhale carefully, trying not to stand out as I shuffle across the gym floor along with two other guys. The pounding of basketballs hitting the ground filling the room, slamming against the backboard of the basketball hoops. I look up briefly, making eye contact with a guy standing on the outer rim of the 3 point like, gripping a basketball in his hands. He raises an eyebrow, shaking his head then looking back at the basketball goal. Probably another critique, everybody at this school is a critique. I watch my feet steadily as I walk close behind the other two in front of me, trying not to get too far away from them. The noises surrounding me, overly expensive (and ugly, I may add) shoes skidding against the ground, making an unbearable squeak as people run across the court. Athletic people, always the same people, the jocks who play almost every sport and the cheerleader girls who watch and cheer on their crush or boyfriend. 

“Brendon, you getting lost in thought again?” A voice comes from in front of me, causing me to look up from my shoes and make eye contact with my smiling friend Jon. 

“When am I not?” I reply softly. 

“You usually never come out, surprised you actually just looked up.” Jon shrugged, “What is it this time? Narrating your life in your head like a cliche book?” A slight grin curled the male’s lip as he ran a hand through his hair, turning completely and walking backwards while keeping his eyes set on me. 

I shrug, shoving my hands into the pockets of my gray misfits sweatshirt, pressing them down against the soft fabric of the pocket. Jon shakes his head, tsking quietly before planting his left foot down and spinning around to where he faces forward again, almost stumbling. I smile to myself slightly, watching as Jon and Spencer walk in front of me. I listen to Spencer, barely hearing his hushed tone as Jon laughs loudly over something he whispers.

This is what high school is for me, the three of us against all of the other cliques. We’re the people who don’t even fit in with the outcasts. At least all of them have some cool tone to them, that ‘I don’t care’ vibe. Jon might be able to fit in with them, I think as I watch him carelessly stepping foot in front of foot, catching disgusted looks from other people. It’s only a look but I know exactly what they’re thinking. Jon tends to not care what people think about him, he walks into the school like he owns it only to get shut down, yet he still grips onto his pride with his heart in his other hand. A male with a black and red letterman jacket, assorted with patches of footballs and basketballs, along with dates of championships he has won the team, walks the opposite way of us with his arm draped around a classic blonde’s shoulders, smirking and leaning to her ear as he makes direct eye contact with me. The grin on his face widens as he whispers something. I squint my eyes, trying to make out what I can from what I can see, but nothing comes to mind. The girl looks at him with a doey eyed look, lifting her thin hand to cover her lips (which are obviously overdrawn with some sort of lipstick that’s probably too expensive for it’s quality) and then turn to me. 

Jon and Spencer walk by him, he leaned slightly closer to the blonde to avoid running into the two. I sigh and begin to walk by, looking down at the ground in front of me thoughtlessly. Right as I walk near the guy in the letterman jacket, he leans my way, his shoulder hitting my chest with obvious applied force. I try to step forward, my chest falling behind, making my feet get tangled and my ankle twisting as I stumble forward into the red padding against the wall, closing my eyes. I fall against it, hitting the back of my head on the top of the padding then my ankle giving in, making me fall straight down. I bite my lip out of the pain that jolted straight up my back, throwing my head back against the padding and sighing. 

“Hey, that wasn’t very nice.” An unfamiliar voice says, it’s scruff and nasally, but doesn’t seem very intimidating. 

“Do I look like I care?” A male, obviously having a ‘too good to talk to you’ tone replies. 

I open my eyes, blinking lightly as I look in front of me. The guy who ‘ran into me’ stood a few feet away, but in front of him stood a dark haired male, a leather jacket wrapped loosely around his skinny frame. His jeans weren’t even touching his skin and they appeared to be the fabric and style that skinny jeans are, some rips showing bits of his legs. Beneath his jacket he wore a black tank top that hung over his shoulders, exposing his prominent collarbones. He was very skinny, a little too skinny. Ok I take that back, a lot too skinny. His collar bones protruded against his skin, and you could see every indent of every exposed bone. 

“Don’t be like that.” The unhealthily skinny male scoffed, taking his hands out of his pockets and pressing against the fabric on his waist, pressing his shirt and his jacket against his actual skin that seemed to go in infinitely. 

I’m skinny, I thought to myself, but this is just scary.

“Don’t be like what?” The letterman jacket boy retorted, pushing the other back and making him fall. I watched intently, the skinny one glaring daggers at the other as if he was about to swing at him. He pressed both of his hands on the ground behind him, keeping him steady. I found my gaze going to his hands, every bone was pretty detailed despite the layer of skin that should’ve gone over it. The curve of each bone and the indents showed, it looked like a skeleton hand painted skin color. His wrist was even worse. A shade that seems lighter than white and with the looks as if it's about to snap. 

“Brendon are you ok?” I look up to see Jon holding his hand out to me, but I just can’t pay absolute attention to him. I turn back to the dark haired boy on the ground, grabbing Jon’s hand without looking and feeling the pressure on my hand as he helps me up. As my feet finally become steady on the ground I hold my arm around, nudging Jon out of my way and seeing out the corner of my eye as he backs up next to Spencer, watching me with a peculiar look. Step after step I make as I walk to the two, watching the one in the letterman jacket who smirked cockily down at the other, taking a step towards him, intertwining his fingers and cracking his knuckles. 

“All bark no bite huh?” He chuckles. I stop a few feet away, waiting for the dark haired boy’s reaction. 

“Tame dogs don’t bite unless they need to, you’re obviously not one of those huh.” He leaned up slightly, glaring up at him still with a look that seems like it could scare the deadliest of assassins. 

“Oh you asked for it.” He growled, reaching down and grabbing the front of his shirt and tightening his fist around the fabric, pulling him up. They made eye contact for a brief moment and my eyes widened. I speed walked the rest of the way and wedge my arm between the two, shoving the one with the letterman jacket back away from the skinny one, narrowing my eyes.

“Violence doesn’t solve anything.” I state, standing firm in place. 

“I got it.” I hear the guy behind me say, pressing his arm against my torso as if telling me to back off without even saying it. I give him a hesitant look before nodding, letting out a sigh and taking a step back, making sure not to get too far just in case something happens. 

“Don’t get hurt.” I mumbled just loud enough for him to hear. 

“Don’t worry bout’ me.” He states, leaving no room for argument taking a step towards the guy again. “What a first day, I see a douchebag push another guy who seems kind enough and then I get almost hit,” He pauses to let out a slight laugh, shaking his head, “I already hate this school.” He says quietly, shoving the guy back against the bleachers. I watch as he hits his back against it, bouncing forward slightly but not falling. 

“I think that’s enough…” I mumble, getting sick of the fighting already. 

“I’ll say when it’s enough.” The skinny boy bites back, looking over his shoulder at me. 

“O-oh-kay.” I look down at my feet. Why can’t I just say what’s on my mind? I want to tell him to stop, seriously, but I’m too wimpy. 

“You’re too thin to do any damage anyway.” The letterman jacket boy grins, looking the other up and down, “Your bones look like they can snap at any second.” 

I lean over slightly, angling my head so I can see his expression. He went from intimidating to… looking like he’s about to cry. He bites his lip, looking down then looking back at me, then back at the guy.

“You’re lucky I’m not in the mood for fighting.” He scoffs out before turning away, walking to the locker room. I watch as he walks away, his legs looking unstable and shaky as he walks and just the weight of the leather jacket seeming to get to him. I frown before looking at Jon and Spencer, who have been watching the whole time, and look pretty mortified. I motion towards him, mouthing ‘don’t wait for me’. Jon nods slightly, still having a shocked look. I turn and begin running towards the male walking to the locker room. 

“Hey dude wait up!” I kind of whisper yell, trying not to bring any more attention than there already was to the two of us. 

He shakes his head, popping the collar of his jacket up before continuing to walk to the door, gripping his hand around the handle and opening the door to the men's locker room. I let out a long sigh before walking in behind him. I wasn’t that far behind him, but as I get into the locker room I see him sitting down, looking at his hands and tracing his finger around his stomach, a distressed look on his face. 

“What do you want.” He says in a quiet, cold voice. 

“I just want to make sure you’re ok..” I try to reason, leaning against a wall of lockers opposing him. 

He releases a bland laugh, resting his elbows on his legs and propping his head in his hands, looking at me. “Why would you want to do that.” He asked.

“I don’t know I just-” 

“And don’t use that stupid ‘you kept be from getting hurt’ excuse cause I obviously didn’t make you feel safe enough that you felt the need to intrude.” He narrows his eyes in a dangerous way, looking me up and down. 

“Excuse me?” I scoff, “That’s not why I intruded.” 

“Oh yeah?” He retorts. 

“Yeah, so stop being all high and mighty, ok?” I roll my eyes, watching as his emotionless aurora turns to a more joking one, a smile now plastered onto his face. 

“What’s that for?” I raise an eyebrow. 

“Whats what for?” He mimics my eyebrow raise.

“That smirk.” I state. “You hidin’ somthin?” I ask, watching him carefully. 

“Nah, not yet at least.” He shrugs, lifting his hand to his jacket and sliding it off his shoulders, revealing his scarily thin arms. 

“Then why did you go from looking like you wanna kill me to all smiley and friendly?” I try to distract myself from looking at his arms by staring into his eyes. 

He just shakes his head again, still smiling. 

“I’m Ryan, by the way. Not just abnormally thin leather jacket dude.” He stands up, his smile turning to an almost mischievous grin. 

“I’m Brendon… and I’m mormon so don’t try and do bad things around me.” I smile slightly. I’m not lying, but I’m not the posterboy for sinless. 

“Oh this friendship will be interesting then.” Ryan runs his thin fingers through his dark hair, looking around the room. 

I watch him with a confused look. “Who mentioned the word friendship?” 

“Me.” He shrugs, reaching down a grabbing his jacket before walking to the door of the locker room. “Talk to you later, mormon boy.” He waves his hand dismissively before gripping onto the door handle, pulling it open with what seems to be strain and walking out with his jacket in his left hand.

I watch the door, wondering what happened. The bell rung, echoing off the walls of the locker room as I stood up, walking towards my locker which ironically was where Ryan formally sat. I reached out at the silver lock, thoughtlessly spinning the lock into the right combination as it clicks open.


	2. Shakespeare Was Totally Gay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jon walker probably has called Shakespeare gay at least o n c e

“What do you mean he just kinda added himself as your friend?” Jon practically had to yell over the roar of the hallway, the three of us standing at our lockers which we managed to talk our way into getting next to each other. Jon opened the red locked, reaching inside and gripping onto a metallic cover notebook, tucking it under his arm before looking back at me as I leaned against my locker with my arms crossed and rested over my chest. 

“He said our friendship was gonna be weird because I’m mormon, I said who said this was a friendship, and he said, and I quote, ‘me’.” I shrugged as I explained the situation that happened in the locker room. This is the third time I have had to explain it, but every time I say that part of the story Jon just gets a dumbfounded look on his face then a smirk, the same mischievous one Ryan had when I told him that I was mormon. 

“Uh..” Spencer mumbled, barely audible, “Do you think it’s possible that maybe… Ryan likes Brendon?” He looks at Jon, then at me. 

“Somebody liking Brendon?” Jon joked, “Nah.” 

“Oh shut up.” I retort, punching his shoulder lightly with a smile on my face. Me and Jon have been friends since Elementary school, and the first thing that he said to me was ‘I think I like dudes’. We just clicked, and we’ve been best friends ever since. Spencer was a shy new kid who Jon thought was cute, so he dragged him into our duo, which eventually turned into a trio as I warmed up to him. Jon was now smiling like crazy, a smile that could convince anybody that the world wasn’t bad. A rare smile. 

“But y'know.” Jon spoke up, “What if he does like you?” 

I look down at my feet, wrinkling my nose. What if he does? He did have that weird smirk, and the way he looked at me was as if he was looking at water after he had been in the desert for weeks. I shake my head. No way, even if he did I have a crush on somebody, a girl I may add.

“No, don’t even start, don’t do your matchmaker thing. I like girls, not guys.” I shook my head, pointing an accusing finger at Jon. I heard a slightly giggle come from Spencer and watched as Jon smiled widely and shook his head as well. 

“You say that now Breadbin.” Jon hums blissfully, leaning against his locker and turning to Spencer. “Ok get what you need to get, we have english next. All of us.” 

“Ugh. Mrs. Evans…” Spencer puts an extra emphasis on Evans, making me laugh a bit. It’s weird, Spencer Smith, school renown teacher’s pet and good boy, hating a teacher. Every time we are in english, I look over at the usually smiling happy Spencer but instead see a frowning mess of a boy. 

Jon breaks me from my thoughts with the feeling of his hand on the top of my head, he ruffled my hair slightly before beginning to walk. People walked past, running into my shoulder occasionally because of the tightly packed hallway, some coming to a stop as they joke around with their friends and causing a domino effect of running into each other for the next 10 people. I held onto Spencer’s backpack, who held onto Jon’s. Jon weaved the two of us throughout the crowd, trying his hardest to keep us from having any collisions, until we ended up to a classroom. The black door frame collided with the peachy pink color of the hallway walls. 

As we walk into the dull atmosphere of the classroom, I glance around the room. Only a few people sat in their usual seats, a few more social people sitting on tables in front of their friends laughing or talking about random subjects that are irrelevant to me. There weren’t as many people in the class, since this was usually the prime class for skipping, I couldn’t tell if it was just the boring class or the teacher, maybe even a mixture of both. Despite me not particularly favoriting this class, I would never skip for my enjoyment, being educated is far more important than being happy at this school and I’ll abide by that policy until I graduate. Along with me I couldn’t see Spencer as the type that skips, even though he has a strong hatred for Mrs.Evans he still likes being educated as well. Now Jon, I feel like he skips every time Spencer isn’t here. Ironically, the days I don’t see Spencer I don’t see Jon either. It’s happened every time and that’s too ironic to be luck, the possibilities being as small as they are. I dismiss the train of thought my mind was going down as I walk between the tables into the back of the room. I come to a table with scattered chairs alongside it, walking to a chair. I set down my bag quietly beside the chair and sit down. My eyes wonder to Jon who throws his backpack to the table, making a loud noise as he slumps down into his chair, causing another loud noise as the chair squeaks back. Beside him is Spencer who sits down quietly, 

I turn my attention to the front of the room as the door opens, clicking of boots against the tiled floor as I watch another person walk into the room. She’s short, maybe around 5’2, with shiny over-hair sprayed hair that bounces with each step. Her eyes are a deep hazel, and her lips a pale pink. She’s young, maybe around her late 20s. She has khaki pants that are rolled up slightly, and a light pink shirt with the name of the high school in the upper part of her shirt in a small font.

Jon snickers as she comes into his line of sight, sinking lower into his chair. “Look at her face it looks like somebody badly photoshopped all of her features in the center of her face.” He giggled out, covering his mouth and looking directly at the teacher. He covers his mouth in an attempt to make it not obvious he was talking, and laughing I may add. 

“Be nice.” I mumble under my breath, looking at Jon out of the corner of my eye who is red with trying to hide in his laughter. 

“Buzzkill Brendon over here-” Jon begins to speak, looking at me as he talks, until a noise of someone clearing their throat fills the room. We both look forward quickly, making eye contact with Mrs.Evans who leans against her wooden desk with a raised eyebrow. 

“Care to share your conversation with the class?” I hear the annoyance laced in her tone as she speaks, looking directly at Jon as if I was invisible. 

“No ma’am.” Jon snickers, grinning. 

“Or do you need to go to the office?” The teacher adds. 

“I’ll shut up.” Jon rolls his eyes, looking at her with icy cold eyes. 

I lean forward in my chair, sitting at the edge of it, and lean over my desk in order to look past Jon. Spencer’s soft blue eyes are wide as he looks at Jon, as if begging for him to stop the attitude. I’m about to audibly beg the same thing. Jon looks to his left, making direct eye contact with Spencer. He exhales carefully before looking back at the teacher, who is narrowing her eyes in a dangerous way. 

“I’m sorry.” Jon finally says genuinely, probably seeing the concern in Spencer’s eyes. The teacher just shakes her head, walking behind her desk and reaching down, gripping something into her pale hands and lifting it up. In big italic font on the front it reads ‘Shakespeare’.

I sink into my seat, looking down at my hands and tangling my fingers together. The class goes silent as she turns pages, and I can’t help but use that time to think. About Ryan. The way he smirked as if he had nothing to hide, but at the same time it looked like he had everything to hide. His actions were so confident as if he planned every movement down to the hair, yet his eyes showed him winging it. His eyes, they looked broken, like there was more to him that reached the surface. I squint my eyes as I look down at my hands. 

“You ok?” I hear Jon whisper in my direction, causing me to turn to the side to see him with a tilted head and a sympathetically raised eyebrow. I nod. 

“Yeah just thinking…” I state quietly, fiddling with cuts in my jeans. 

“Oh that’s never good.” Jon replies, raising his eyebrow more and resting his elbow against his table, leaning against it with his head against his palm. 

“Not that kind of thinking.” I reassure, looking back at the teacher to make sure she isn’t watching us again, before looking back at Jon whose expression is calmer and more rested. 

“Oh, then thinking about what?” He asks, twirling a stray strand of his hair around his finger. 

“About Ryan.” I reply simply, shrugging. 

“Ryan?” Jon questions again, looking a bit confused again.

“That’s the new kids name, Ryan.” 

“Sounds hot.” Jon laughs quietly through his words, “And gay.” 

“You’re gay.” I retort, rolling my eyes. 

“You’re right.” He winks, before looking over at a dazed Spencer, getting one of those rare genuine Jon Walker smiles once again. I smile to myself as I watch the two, Jon shifting in his seat to face Spencer and tapping his shoulder, making him slowly turn to him and break his concentration from the shakespeare lecture going on in the background. At the sight of Jon, Spencer smiles and scoots his seat closer to Jon carefully, resting his head against the other boy’s shoulder as they both turn their attention to the teacher. 

“Doubt thou the stars are fire; Doubt that the sun doth move; Doubt truth to be a liar; But never doubt I love.” I get out of my thoughtful trance long enough to hear Mrs.Evans speak out, flicking her wrist in a dramatic manner. I scan the eyes of my classmates, confusion and interest mixed into the vast majority of them. People with their elbows propped on their desks and heads on their palms, leaning forward to listen. People who scribble thoughtful notes as they try to decipher what the literary advanced male, while I take one thought of the text and understand completely. I’m what the english teachers call a literary prodigy, which Jon parades around more than me.

“Shakespeare was a huge love fanatic.” Mrs.Evans spoke in her normal voice, putting the book page down onto the closest table in front of her. “And death fanatic, he loved both sides of the spectrum.” She shrugs, “In fact he uses both in two of his more known plays, which I’m sure you have heard of both, Romeo and Juliet..” She pauses, scanning the eyes of my classmates, “The tale of love and loss, depression and… suicide. A girl falling for a man who eventually is the literal death of her.” She sits back on the empty desk behind her, swinging her legs back and forth. “And Hamlet, which is what that section I read to you was from.” 

I watch out of the corner of my eye as Jon’s hand shoots up. 

“Yes Jon?” Mrs.Evans tilts her head, shifting herself to look at him.

Jon has a friendly smile plastered onto his face, which only irritates me a bit more, because he never smiles like that unless its not authentic and if he’s about to make a sarcastic remark. 

“So, keep an open mind about this..” He begins with an optimistic tone, “The way Romeo and Juliet were, they were shunned in their family. Everybody looked at them like they were something terrible. They were the symbols of forbidden relationships, kinda like… homosexuals?” Jon smiles at the last word. I watch as he moves his hand to Spencer’s leg under the table, pressing his hand against his knee carefully. Spencer flushes a peachy red as he looks down at his leg.

“Jon… Romeo and Juliet has nothing to do with gays itself… But there has been a lot of drama over the fact the story never shares a good amount of the character’s sexualities, resulting in the fact lots of people hate on it for that reason alone.” Mrs.Evans replies calmly, leaning back, using her arms to keep her steady on the desk. 

“Hell yeah.” Jon snickered. 

“Language, Walker.” Mrs.Evans snaps, raising an eyebrow. 

“Yup.” Jon replies cockily. I can’t help but laugh a bit at the two, the way Jon bickers with the teacher on a constant basis. Out of the corner of my eye I watch as Jon moves his hand to Spencer’s, lacing their fingers together under the desk. Jon looks forward to the front of the room while Spencer looks at Jon, his icy blue eyes sparkling with some emotion that I don’t know well. 

“I’m going to put in a documentary on William Shakespeare, and I want everybody to try and pay as much attention as they can.” Mrs.Evans states, walking to the white light switch next to the door frame and flicking them down, making the lights go out. She walks to the projector strategically set up next to the two front tables of the room, facing a white pull down screen. She wraps a few dull cords around the back of her computer before plugging it into it, the screen of her computer projecting onto the screen. She moves the computer mouse swiftly to a file just titled ‘shakespeare’ with a disk icon. The room is silent, just the noises of clicking and silent rustling as people pile their jackets and sweatshirts onto their tables, crossing their arms over it or hugging it while leaning over their tables. I watch as most of the class presses their face against some sort of padding, or just their bare arm on the table as they patiently wait for the documentary to start. 

Jon reaches over to my bag, and I watch out of the corner of my eye as he takes a grey american eagle beanie from the netted side pocket of my dark bag, holding it firmly in his hand. I furrow my eyebrows in confusion as I watch him put it onto the pile of his hoodie and Spencer’s pink sweatshirt. He wraps his arms around the pile, pulling it closer to him as he leans forward, pressing his cheek to the makeshift pillow and closing his eyes. 

The movie starts, opening with some classical music with camera pans to somebody writing on a piece of paper old english. A few people in my class put their head fully down while the opposing people lean up again, a few leaning against the back of their chair as they watch intensly 

I press my back against the back of my chair, loosening up on the tension I hadn’t even been aware of in my shoulders and resting my arms over my lap, pulling my legs up and crossing them in my chair as I intently stare at the screen.

Careless minutes fly by into the film, my mind getting absorbed into the creative world of shakespeare while my peers shake their heads in an attempt to keep their heavy eyes open. Girls lifting their heads from the tables with dazed expressions as they scan the room, probably wondering why the movie isn’t over yet. I glance over at Jon to see a line of his saliva going down his mouth to his chin, his mouth open slightly and eyes closed. I can hear him snoring softly, but he’s just quiet enough to where nobody else in the class would be able to hear. Spencer has the same expression as the majority of my other classmates, physique slumped over while his eyes seem to be trying their hardest to get into the movie, but everything else signaling the opposite. 

I glue my eyes back to the screen, almost getting lost in the movie again until the bell breaks me from my creative hold. Spencer’s body stiffens at the sudden noise echoing through the class, while Jon keeps snoring, if anything he is starting to snore louder. People begin standing from their chairs, getting their belongings together lazily before slinging their bags over their shoulders and walking out like mindless zombies. 

Spencer yawns quietly, blinking slowly as he looks at Jon, who’s still asleep. 

“How does he do that.” He sighs, putting his books into his bag. 

“I have no idea.” I reply, shaking my head before putting my hand on his shoulder and shaking him. 

Jon sniffles a bit, his snoring coming to a halt as he blinks his eyes open. He groans a bit at the light hitting his eyes and squeezing them shut again. 

“What time is it.” He mutters quietly. 

“Time for lunch.” I reply blatantly. 

Jon’s head shoots up in response to the word lunch, his eyes prying open as he forces them to get used to the light. I can’t help but giggle at his sudden movement as he begins shoving books and papers into his bag carelessly.

“That’s how you get Jon Walker to get up.” Spencer giggles from the left side of him, picking up his jacket from the table and pulling it over his head then down his torso, fixing his hair.

“Shut up.” Jon replies, a defeated tone laced in his voice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> xoxo thanks for the support! message me or comment below if you have any ideas or something for this story!

**Author's Note:**

> well yeah, i have a lot more written but im holding it back unless you all want me to post more. please tell me if you do! thanks!


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